


Reconcilable Differences

by inthesnowglobe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Shot, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesnowglobe/pseuds/inthesnowglobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could he forgive her? She hadn't been his to begin with but could his little bird ever be his?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconcilable Differences

**Sansa**

 

“I'm sorry!”

 

“Sansa, I have never once hit you, but if you don’t get away from me then I can't promise anything.”  His eyes scanned her body from top to bottom with a look of pure disgust before he turned around and stalked over to the kitchen.

 

“You wont hurt me.” Suddenly she was furious. “If you had just told me, then none of this would have happened! You just had to be stubborn!”

 

Her fury was matched only by his own. “Told you what, exactly?” he roared stomping over to her. “Told you that being your fucking bodyguard wasn’t enough? Told you how much I cringe whenever you brag about going on some fancy date with that Tyrell guy? Don’t you _dare_ blame you spreading your legs for your mothers bodyguard on me.”

 

She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as he yelled into her face. “You rejected me,” she almost whispered.

 

“So you go and _fuck_ the first person that told you you looked nice today?” he bellowed. He had backed away from her, maybe not being able to truly trust the control he had over his anger.

 

“How was I supposed to know you would care who I _fuck_?” she spat back at him through her tears. “Don't tell me you haven't been with anyone since you knew I was interested in you.”

 

He stared at her disbelieving. His muscular chest was heaving with quick breaths. “So you finally say it?” he said softly, the hurt playing across his face. “Only now after I walk in on the love of my life fucking the one guy I can't stand... _Bronn_ of all people, do you finally say that you were interested in me.”

 

Sansa thought her heart was breaking to pieces in her chest at his confession.

 

_The love of my life..._

 

“How could you not tell, Sandor?” she moaned through tears. “You didn't answer my question. How many girls have you been with during the past year?”

 

She wasn’t sure what had happened that had caused her go run to Bronn and give herself to him. He had always had a certain amount of charm to him but she had never given him much of a second thought. Her thoughts were always on Sandor. Maybe Sandor had the right of it, maybe it was just a matter of convenience and his open advances on her. He _had_ told her that she had looked nice that day. He told her that everyday. If her parents had known the way he leered at her and the slightly suggestive compliments he paid her, they would have fired him immediately. Sansa never told them though. They never felt threatening and it was flattering. It was their little secret.

 

She had never imagined that it would lead to his wildest dreams and find her actually on her back on her parents bed with him pounding deeply into her. She had been on the brink of her orgasm when Sandor had walked in on them; Bronn mid thrust. The looks that flashed across his face had been-

 

“You're thinking about him, aren’t you?” he roared at her.

 

The look on her face must have given her away because without another word, Sandor strode to the front door and slammed it behind him.

 

Feeling her lip begin to tremble, she pushed the images of Bronn thrusting into her from her mind and  she imagined Sandor instead.

 

 

**Sandor**

 

How could he have been so stupid? How could he ever allowed himself to hope that she would ever have the slightest bit of interest in him? Clearly, though, her standards were not as high as he had originally thought.

 

_Fucking Bronn?_

 

He supposed the more appropriate question would be, How could he ever allow himself to believe she was as perfect as she seemed to be? Willas Tyrell and Joffrey Baratheon were what she was expected to be interested in. People would expect a woman like her to match herself with someone of equal social status and physical attractiveness. Had she fucked them too or did she just like to slum it with the help?

 

_What other employees of her families and she been on her back for? Jory?_

 

All of those little touches and flirtatious smiles had been her toying with him. She was rebelling against the perfect light she was cast in and finding ways to stave off the boredom. Bronn may have been ok with being her play thing but Sandor wouldn't be.

 

He had refused to answer her question about how many women he had been with in the past year because he didn’t want to look like a love sick little pussy. He hadn’t been with anyone. He hadn’t cared to be. A part of him had hoped her little smiles and glancing touches had been just for him and that it would eventually come to some sort of fruition. How naive he had been.

 

Sandor had been avoiding her ever since he had walked in on her and Bronn. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes again. The look on her face as she lay naked underneath of Bronn on her parents bed had suggested that she had been close to cumming. Bronn's hand had been pressed over her mouth to quiet her moans of pleasure as he had thrust into the body that Sandor had imagined on numerous occasions. Only in his imagination, it had been him thrusting into her.

 

It had been _his_ cock she bucked her hips into to meet thrust for thrust.

 

It would be _him_ taking her against her parents bed and stifling her cries with _his_ hand. They would laugh about their scandalousness in post coital heavy breaths.

 

She would wrap her arms around his neck and bring him in to kiss her.

 

She would playfully squeeze her pelvic muscles as she milked him of every drop of cum he had as she giggled at the gasps it elicited from him.

 

He would scowl at her and nip at her neck.

 

It would be perfect and it would be all for him. How could he have let himself get in so deep with her? She would never be his.

 

 

**Sansa**

 

He wouldn’t be able to avoid her anymore today. After their blow out in the kitchen, he had avoided her again for the past two days. She had seen him briefly but he had disappeared before she could get to him to talk to him. Today, he wouldn’t be able to avoid her and she wouldn’t be able to avoid him. He was driving and escorting her to Las Vegas for Maegaery Tyrell's bachelorette party. She imagined that the ride would be an uncomfortable one.

 

_How could they both be so blind to each other's feelings for one another?_

 

“Are you ready, girl?” he grumbled through her door that afternoon. She noticed he had dropped the usual 'little bird.' She couldn't bring herself to be surprised by his chilly demeanor but she was disappointed nonetheless. He was no doubt not very happy about having to be stuck in the car with her for the next four hours.

 

She emerged from her bedroom and found him waiting diligently by her door. Without a word, he picked the overnight bag from her hands and strode towards the garage.

 

He surprised her when he clicked  a button on his keychain and flashed the lights on a car that was not her father's.

 

“Whose car is this?” she said before she could stop herself.

 

He turned to her as if it was obvious. “It's mine. This is my new car. I want to break it in.”

 

Despite her anger, she was intrigued. “I didn’t know you had bought a new car. What is it?” She was used to being in one of her father's boring Mercedes. This was sporty and exciting.

 

“It's a Challenger,” he said with little to no emotion.

 

 

The first half of the drive went by without a sound from either of them. Sandor huffed a few times and pretended to keep his eyes concentrated on the road ahead but Sansa was well aware of the furtive glaces he was shooting to her legs; bare below her upper thigh.

 

It was him who finally broke the silence. “Who did you get so dressed up for?” he said a bit too defensively.

 

Sansa felt the sting his words were dripping with. “What makes you think I'm getting dressed up for someone?” In reality, she had gotten dressed up in anticipation for the long drive with him.

 

He scoffed bitterly but kept his eyes forward. “No reason.”

 

The awkward silence seemed to pass into light years as the tears swelled in her eyes before finally spilling over. Afraid that he would notice, she shifted her body to face the window and the desert flying past them.

 

“You think I don’t know?” he said, again breaking the silence between them.

 

“Know what?” she said as she turned to him.

 

“It's a bachelorette party and Bronn is going to be there. Why the fuck else would you get so dolled up?” he spat to her with an air of disdain.

 

“I was unaware that he would be there.” She suddenly felt uncomfortable.

 

“Bullshit, Sansa!” he bellowed suddenly.

 

He slammed on the brakes causing her to brace herself against the forces driving her forward.“Sandor!” she squealed.

 

“Dont tell me that you aren’t dressing up for him!” he said as he turned the key and killing the engine.

 

“I didn’t know he would be there, Sandor! And I didn’t dress up for him, you oaf! I...” she couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought. Her tears were flowing freely and her heart was aching at the missed opportunity. She had always wanted him more than any of the other men her mother had set her up with. If only she had told him...

 

“Who then? It's Margaery's party... is Willas going to be there?”

 

Willas had been everything her mother had wanted for her and nothing she had wanted for herself.

 

“How _dare_ you?!” she screamed at him in the small space between them over the console. “You act like I am not allowed to speak to anyone else because, for whatever reason, you and I have never been able to speak of out mutual attraction for each other.”

 

Sandor sat looking at her with a dumbfounded expression on his usually stoic face.

 

“You never once said anything to me!”  she screamed. She felt the warm tears streaming down her face but found that she was unable to stop herself. “I _threw_ myself at you and you always pretended that it was your _job_ to put up with me! How else was I supposed to feel, Sandor?”

 

She turned her head towards the expansive and desolate desert stretching out around her and tried to shake away the tears.

 

“Sansa,” he began.

 

“No! It's not fair! You cant make me feel like shit for this,” she sobbed. “You can't tell me that I'm the love of your life after you have treated me like I'm nothing more than a job for the past year!” the words were falling from her mouth without her permission. “I've wanted only you for so long and you have rejected me for so long...” she took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her face.

 

She suddenly could take the stares on the side of her face anymore. She could be around him now. He thought she was a flippant slut who just had sex with anyone and...

 

She needed fresh air.

 

She opened the door and undid her seatbelt as she slid out of his seat and into the heat of the desert. She slammed the door of his car on him and paced beside the rear end of the car.

 

_Was he ever going to let the thing with Bronn go? How did she tell him that she hadn't cared? That she had thought of him the whole time?_

 

She rolled her eyes as she heard his door slam shut behind him. “Sandor, I...” her words were cut off by the intense stare he was directing at her as he strode towards her. The gleam in his eyes made her retreat back into the car . She was suddenly scared and at a complete loss for words.

 

“Quit your chirping, little bird,” he growled as he pushed her back into the rear fender of his car.

 

 

**Sandor**

 

He had heard enough. Her crying. Her pleading. Her rationalization.

 

She was right. She had thrown herself at him a dozen times and he had played it off as something not meant for him. Little had he known, she had meant all of it for him. She was exasperated because she had put herself out there and been rejected time and time again by someone who would be fucking lucky to have a fraction of what she was offering.

 

He had always told himself that it was always too good to be true.

 

But here she was, crying and shuddering because he had always turned her down. If only he had had the balls to tell her...

 

He ignored her protestation and her retreating steps. It was too late for any of that now.

 

“Quit your chirping, little bird,” he growled lustily as he backed her into the car.

 

He could feel the fear emanating off of her body in waves. “Are you afraid of me?” he said as he bent his head and appraised her through his eyelashes.

 

“No,” she mumbled as she jutted out her chin and held her head high.

 

“Good.” At her adamant confession he felt his resolve break and he stole her quivering lips with his own. His kissed her with all of the pent up frustration and passion that he had been holding in for the past year and let it pour into her mouth.

 

She squealed and her eyes flew wide for only a moment before she met him with the same unbridled lust he had been feeling for so long.

 

His tongue lashed at her lips as her eyes flutter closed and her arms wrapped around his neck. Her mouth opened for him and he lifted her up by her ass to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her slender and shapely legs around his hips. Her mouth was eager to accept him and it felt as if she couldnt melt into his embrace enough.

 

He maneuvered her towards the trunk of his car and laid her down on her back as he bent over her and grasped desperately at her quivering and perfect body; afraid that at any moment it would dissolve into wild fantasy. She met his passionate groping by arching her back into his touch. His hands found her perfect round tits and cupped them as he rubbed a thumb over her already hardened nipples. She arched her back even higher and moaned his name as he brought his lips down to caress her neck and collar bones.

 

Lost in her encouragement, before God and everyone, he brought his hand down to where her skirt had ridden up over her hips, exposing her lack of panties to his fingers and thrust a long finger into her soaking wet entrance. He was sure that her cries would fill the silent desert around them but they both found themselves passed the point of caring as he worked his middle finger in and out of her as she bucked her hips up to meet each thrust he was offering her.

 

A car drove by and honked their horn as he was releasing his painfully hard cock from his pants and pushed inside of her.

 

Neither of them really noticed.

 

They were too wrapped up in the feeling of finally feeling each other. Every time he pushed into her, she met him with equaled desperation and passion. He reveled in the sensation of his hips pounding into her until he found her tightening painfully around him. Her head rolled back as she screamed his name again and he felt the rush of heat and moisture of her cumming hard and strong on his twitching cock.

 

He allowed his own release to spill inside her deeper and harder than he had even experienced in his fantasies.

 

Hearing another passing horn sound beside them, they looked at each other and laughed through labored breaths.

 

Sansa brought her lips to his and kissed him fiercely before lying back and taking another deep breath. He remained inside of her, oblivious to the outside world of other commuters flying past them.

 

“Are we still going to Vegas?” she asked through the blush radiating beautifully from her cheeks.

 

“We can,” he allowed.

 

“ _We_ can. I don’t care about some stupid bachelorette party anyway,” she said with a coy smile.

 

He leaned down and met her waiting lips with a fervor he hadn’t felt even before.

 

_She can be yours._

 

 

 


End file.
